


Studies in the Obscure

by therentistoodamnhigh



Series: it's either psychosis or a higher state of reality [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Lovecraftian, anti-spoop omelettes, fear-induced panic, irwin's getting a heckin SPOOP, spooky noises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentistoodamnhigh/pseuds/therentistoodamnhigh
Summary: For the first time in many, many years, Professor Iplier had an intern. Not teacher’s assistant, intern; it was a much better term for the role Irwin played as an assistant and what’s more, he hadn’t precisely gone through official university avenues to get a TA. Besides, if the university knew what he was doing in his spare time they’d have him thrown out immediately.





	Studies in the Obscure

**Author's Note:**

> this is me more or less trying to figure out who the hell the professor is lmao. i think the prof is basically an oc at this point, but an oc with mark's face, i dunno man

For the first time in many, many years, Professor Iplier had an intern. Not teacher’s assistant, intern; it was a much better term for the role Irwin played as an assistant and what’s more, he hadn’t precisely gone through official university avenues to get a TA. Besides, if the university knew what he was doing in his spare time they’d have him thrown out immediately. Over the course of a semester, Irwin proved to have a burning curiosity hiding inside their quiet, introverted personality, as well as a passion for the field, and the Professor knew he had to have them under his wing. 

The first day on the job, the Professor asked Irwin if they had a car.

“No, professor,” they said, fidgeting with the strap of their over-the shoulder messenger bag. “I usually either walk or take the bus.”

“I see,” the Professor said thoughtfully. “Well then, I will simply have to arrange transportation to my library for you. Until then, I’ll drive you there. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Irwin said, meeting the Professor’s eyes for moment before flicking back down to focus on the knot of his tie. 

Irwin seemed to have trouble keeping eye contact, the poor dear. He’d just have to fix that for them in time. 

The Professor smiled. “Excellent! Let’s head to my car now, shall we?” He waited for Irwin to acknowledge the statement before heading out of his office and towards the parking lot.

It was a thirty minute drive to the Professor’s house, and it took a little poking and prodding to get Irwin to open up. Irwin was far more vocal about anthropology than they were about their personal life, unsurprisingly, and the Professor was able to get them to talk for the majority of the ride.

The Professor’s house looked more like a small mansion. It was set far away from other houses, and the grounds were small and well-kept, surrounded by woods and hidden away. It was quiet here, Irwin noted as they got out of the car. The gravel driveway crunched underfoot and Irwin followed the Professor to the doorway of the brick house.

“Welcome to my humble abode! Please wipe your feet on the mat as you go in,” the Professor said idly as he unlocked the door.

Irwin obliged, and then looked around at the inside of the house as they followed him in. The interior of the house was warm, just like the professor himself, and it was clean but not pristinely so. It looked lived in, every inch of it, and it soothed Irwin’s nerves just a little.

“Are you hungry at all, Irwin? I can get you a snack while you work,” the Professor offered as they walked through the foyer.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Irwin replied. 

“Suit yourself,” the Professor responded cheerfully, and led them down hallways, giving a small tour while he did so.

“And this is my library! It’s quite extensive, so try not to get lost,” the Professor said as they walked into the library. “You’ll be using this computer here, so don’t worry about bringing your laptop. Be sure to keep a couple flash drives on hand, though.”

The computer he spoke of was an older model, with a clunky looking flat screen monitor and a tower on the left side of a sturdy wooden desk, all situated on the right portion of the room, the monitor facing the wall. The library itself was relatively narrow, but deep, and a row of bookshelves that faced them blocked off the view of the majority of the rest of the room. The were a couple other tables with chairs, but it wasn’t a wide open area, which made it feel safer. There were lamps with warm yellow light dotted around, making the room even cozier.

“Today you’ll just be transcribing my notes into a word doc. I’ve already started the process, so I’ll just show you how I organize things on it and bring you up to speed on a couple other things,” the Professor told them. He oriented Irwin on how to do everything, and then left them to it, retreating into the depths of the library. 

Irwin had been permitted to listen to music while they worked, and so they popped the earbuds into their ears and hit play on their music player and set to work.

The work was tedious, and sometimes the professor’s handwriting was nearly impossible to decipher. Occasionally Irwin had to scan drawings onto the computer, and getting the picture to sit right was a battle in of itself.

Time seemed to pass oddly as well. They’d glance at the clock, and then they’d glance at it again 15 minutes later and find that only 5 minutes had passed, or to find that 40 had passed. They continued to work until their scheduled time, but they didn’t know how to leave, and didn’t want to do so without informing the professor. Only problem was, Irwin had seen neither hide nor hair of the professor since they’d started earlier that afternoon, so they decided to mess around on their phone while they waited for him to come back.

Irwin grew concerned when they reached the end of the social media updates they could check on their phone and the professor still hadn’t come back. They glanced at the clock and decided that since they didn’t have any pressing homework they could stay a while and continue transcribing notes.

That’s when the noises started. They started as the creaking noises, and Irwin brushed it off as the house settling at first. But then the creaking became purposeful, like someone walking across creaky floorboards, in a particular path. That path came very close to Irwin multiple times, but there was no one in sight.

“Nope,” they mumbled as they typed a little more forcefully on the keyboard. “That’s a hard nope from me.”

Then there were book sounds; the sliding of books off shelves, the creak of an old spine opening, the sound of pages turning. Irwin had initially thought it was Professor Iplier nearby, but when they went to check he was nowhere in sight. There was nobody else in sight, either. It happened multiple times, and each time Irwin went to check, and each time there was nobody.

Growing unsettled, Irwin sat back down at the computer, turning to the next set of notes. They were about a third of the way down the page when they realized that these notes were nothing like anything they’d heard of. Sacrifices? Gods whose names were a jumble of consonants and shrieks? What the fuck was the professor even researching?

The more they transcribed, the more confused they got. With no professor in sight, they just kept typing until they heard an oddly  _ wet _ sound directly behind them. They froze at the noise, and very slowly turned around but saw nothing behind them.

Yeah, nope. 

Irwin hastily stood up, the chair screeching against the wood, and pulled the strap of their messenger bag over their shoulder. 

“Professor?” they called, heading into the maze of bookshelves where they last saw him go. 

No response.

“Professor?” Irwin called again, a little louder as they headed deeper into the bookshelves.

The wooden shelves around them seemed to swallow up the sound of their voice, and so they continued to call for their professor, voice growing louder with each one, and tone growing increasingly frantic. Abruptly, Irwin realized they had no idea where they were in relation to the rest of the room. They scanned the ceiling, but the tops of the bookshelves obscured the ends of the long room, and weren’t these bookshelves shorter before?

Fear grew in Irwin’s chest. They walked a little slower between the rows of bookshelves, and they started paying more attention to their surroundings, still calling out for the professor.

Then they started hearing indistinct noises and quiet whispers that didn’t sound like the professor, and the more they listened it didn’t sound like any language they’d ever heard before.

Irwin began walking a little faster. Soon they started seeing moving shadows and shapes out of the corner of their eye, and the fear started hitching up into terror.  The last straw was hearing the creaking floorboards behind them, and it was then that Irwin decided “fuck it” and started running.

They ran in a near panic, and they knew they were totally lost, but it was like there was something chasing them, and instinct bid them to keep running and to never stop, not even as their calves and lungs began to burn with the effort.

Irwin rounded a corner they swore they’d passed at least three times already, only to run face first into a soft but firm pillar. They nearly fell on their ass from the impact, but a pair of hands caught them by the shoulders and steadied them. They looked up at whoever they’d run into, and mercy of mercies it was the professor.

“Professor,” Irwin gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Professor Iplier said, frowning down in concern at Irwin. “What happened?”

It took Irwin several moments to catch their breath enough to speak clearly. “There- there were weird noises and I didn’t know where you were and-” The fear and adrenaline was wearing off, and irwin felt their eyes sting with forming tears and a lump forming in their throat from upset. “I wanna go home.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the professor said sympathetically, pulling Irwin into a hug. He let them cry for a few moments until they withdrew, sniffling and wiping their tears away.

“I’m sorry, I dunno what came over me,” they mumbled. “I just kept hearing things, and it was way past time when I was supposed to leave so I went looking for you but then I started seeing things out the corner of my eye and it was all so  _ wrong _ , and I got really scared.”

“I completely understand,” Professor Iplier said gently. “How ‘bout this: I’ll make you something to eat, and then we can talk some more about what happened over some tea, alright?”

“Alright,” Irwin said, sounding a little more composed.

The professor rested an arm around Irwin’s shoulders and guided them out of the maze of bookshelves. Sensing that the student would appreciate a distraction, he began rambling about a research trip he’d been on with a couple other professors and all the shenanigans that went down until the two of them reached the kitchen.

The kitchen was quaint, with all sorts of little notes scattered about, both recipes and notes. It was brightly lit, and the professor noticed Irwin’s shoulders relaxing as he had them sit down at the kitchen table.

“Do you like eggs?” the professor asked, heading over to the fridge.

“Uh, yeah?” Irwin said. They set their messenger bag on the floor next to their feet.

“What about green peppers, onions, and bacon? Lactose intolerant?”

“I don’t like peppers, and I’m not lactose intolerant.”

“Great!” Professor Iplier chirped. He set some ingredients on the counter, and then pulled out a skillet and set it on the stove. “I make some killer omelettes, if I do say so myself."

The professor continued to ramble, and soon the kitchen was full of sizzling noises and good smells, and soon enough he was sliding a plate in front of Irwin.

“Thank you,” Irwin said as they picked up the fork given to them. They took a bite and hummed happily. “This is really good,” the mumbled through a mouthful of egg.

The professor chuckled as he sat down across from Irwin with his own omelette. The two of them ate in relative silence, the professor asking Irwin the occasional question. When they were both done, he took their plates and set them in the sink before he sat back down at the table.

“Now,” the professor began, “I understand you had quite the fright in the library. Would you tell me more about it?”

Irwin recounted their experience, detailing all the oddness they had encountered with a clearer head than earlier. “It just doesn’t make any sense,” they concluded, sighing.

The professor leaned forward. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yeah?” Irwin responded.

“There are far more entities and powers in the universe than the world would be comfortable with,” he said quietly. “I have made it my mission to know all their names, and to meet them face to face. The ones you encountered in the library? They’re harmless; those ones just like to make mischief.”

Irwin’s blue eyes were big behind their glasses, their mouth slightly agape and the professor could practically  _ see _ the paradigm shifting inside their head

“How many have you found?” they asked, voice quiet and slightly awed.

“Hundreds, possibly thousands,” he responded.

“I saw some of your notes on them in the stack I was transcribing,” Irwin said, voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Did you?” the professor asked, a smile widening on his face. “Do you want to know more about them?”

Irwin considered the question. The subject _had_ been quite intriguing when they’d read it in the professor’s notes, and it’d be cool to know more about it and be less confused. “Yeah, I do,” they said.

“Do you really? Regardless of the consequences?” he pressed.

That question made them pause. The word ‘consequences’ implied that they’d be getting into some serious shit, and this moment felt important to them, like their fate was stretching out before them and they couldn’t go back once they’d chosen.

But their curiosity burned inside them and in this moment they felt brave, brave enough to say yes to Professor Iplier.

“Yeah, I really do. I wanna know,” Irwin said, something intense swelling in their chest.

The professor’s smile broke into a wide grin. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, sounding quite pleased. “Welcome aboard, Irwin.”

Irwin smiled back, and they had the distinct impression that this was the start of something wonderful.


End file.
